All That I Am
by ForgottenStorm87
Summary: After two long years of negotiating, the work is done and continued peace is assured. What happens when the world isn't watching? When all that they have is all that they are?


The final signature was drying on the parchment as she made her way from the room. She didn't need to hear the other politicians congratulating themselves over their monumental victory. The trade war between the Earth and the colonies was finally over after two long years of failed negotiations and high tensions over the proper distribution of the resources. Mined from asteroids floating in the void of space, jurisdictional ownership of salvaged materials harvested from the many battlefields of the final frontier had been hotly argued.

She had worked tirelessly to keep communications running smoothly with all that were involved; impressing on them the importance of keeping cool heads and soft answers. It never ceased to amaze Heero how delegates twice Relena's age and older found it difficult to behave as civilized adults. It spoke volumes on the issue of the competency of the Earth-Space Unified Nation that they needed one so young to negotiate on their behalf and hold together the fragile threads of commerce that helped tie the peace together. War had nearly broken out more than once as small skirmishes had to be put down. Each time, the called her in a panic and each time she answered and soothed the savage beast with her gentle ways. It took every ounce of his self-control not to tell them all off for the burden they forced her to bear.

He followed her as she made her way down the hall, stepping in time with the clacking of her heels on the marble floor. Heero had seen the way it had worn on her. Makeup did well to hide the bags under her eyes, but he heard every stifled yawn and saw every near lapse of attention. Coffee had long taken the place of tea though she detested the bitter liquid. Her phone had rung at all hours of the night as members of various councils chose to ignore the email system in favor of a more direct line of communication in accordance with their various time-zone availabilities. All the while, he made sure she ate when she could, though it had been very clear that the tension made her lose her appetite. Her already lean form had become thinner in spite of his best efforts to keep the sandwiches and take-out readily available. She held her head up high and proceeded to clean up the messes of her elders with a grace and patience no mortal should be able to possess, but that was one of the many things he admired about her. In the fifteen years he'd been by her side she had never faltered in her duties.

As he helped her into the car, he noticed how her hand gripped his a little tighter than usual. She shook a little as she slid into the seat. He shut the door, careful not to show his concern as he entered the car from the other side. She stared out the window in silence, her face unreadable even to him. She seemed to lean a little and press her temple gently on the cool glass and closed her eyes for a moment.

He wondered, briefly, if he should say something. Their relationship was one of quiet trust understanding mixed with a tenderness no one knew of but them. Nothing usually needed to be said between them for an understanding to be had. With a single glance, he could usually tell what she was thinking and she with him. Today, however, was different. Today she was hiding from him; shutting him out and he didn't know why. And it hurt.

When they reached her mansion, he helped her out of the car, noting again the shakiness in her arm, though her posture never faltered. She was always so poised and regal. Nothing seemed to phase her even in the hardest of times to any and all who viewed her from the outside looking in. Magazines and tabloids praised her for it. Gossip rags guessed at her secret suggesting anything from yoga to illegal drugs. In truth, it was sheer determination and an inhuman amount of self-control picked up from an environment where weakness was preyed upon.

She discarded her gloves and coat and returned the friendly greeting offered by her butler, giving him a gentle smile in return. Pagen refused to retire and she refused to insult him by insisting and so he stayed on as an old friend and support system she always needed.

She made her way up the stairs and he noted the slowness of her pace. Every step, though graceful, was labored and sluggish as though some unseen force were trying to pull her back down. He followed closely behind her, taking no chances in case that force should win. She reached the top of the stairs and walked down the hall until she reached her room: third door on the right, not too far from the stairs but not too close to the end of the hall. He followed her as always, right into the room and watched as she discarded her blazer, standing by to stabilize her as she took off her shoes.

He watched her walk to her vanity where she removed her earrings and pulled her long, honey-colored hair down from the bun. It cascaded down her slender back as she sighed. He studied her as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. In that instant, Her cerulean eyes welled up with years of unshed tears and the façade cracked.

Her shoulders slumped and the stress of the last two years finally flooded out of her. He was by her side in an instant, holding her as she sobbed. She wasn't sad. These weren't tears of grief or mourning. These were tears of victory; of exhaustion and relief. He had only seen her cry a handful of times, the first of which had been at her school a life time ago. The second was in a garden after she had fallen and twisted her ankle. She had been running a fever as well and was weeping by the rose bushes. Since then, she had tried her best not to let such a slip occur, trying to look strong in the face of adversity. She was a paragon of strength, a symbol of peace and hope, but here, in her room, wracked by sobs, she was nothing more than a woman in need of her own peace.

He held her, letting her tears soak through his uniform, not caring as her tiny form trembled in his embrace. He loved this woman with all that he was. It had taken him a few years to realize it but he did. The first time he did, it had shocked even him. They had been fighting over a trivial detail, the exact topic he could not recall. It may well have pertained to her security or perhaps a colleague he found untrustworthy. Whatever the case, she shouted at him. standing her ground, tears of frustration brimming in her eyes though none fell.

"Why do you care?!" Her loss of control had frightened him. He, the perfect soldier, had been frightened by the woman he once threatened to kill. He saw the pain, and anguish in her eyes that day and before he had known it, he swept her into his arms and placed a long, hard kiss on her lips. He pulled back and noted the shock on her face as he gazed down into her eyes.

"That's why." He had said it so earnestly that he himself felt like someone else had uttered those words. She had laughed then, a soft, fulfilling chuckle that warmed him and scared him at the same time.

"Well." She had said. "That's a good reason." From then on, they had been an unspoken official couple. Wherever she went, he followed, shadowing her and keeping her safe, stealing swift kisses and soft caresses whenever time permitted. The tabloids had guess at what was between them, but no proof could ever be found.

They were discrete at all times. At first, he was worried she was ashamed of him; that she hadn't wanted the world to know of her love for a soldier. It had surprised him to find that the opposite was true. She had wanted to tell everyone and make it publicly known that she was his, but she had been afraid for him. She knew he liked his privacy and was afraid the publicity would be too much; afraid that the pressure of the public eye would be too hard for him. _She_ had wanted to protect _him_. A small smile formed on his lips as he remembered their misunderstanding. Relationships were so complicated; _love_ was complicated, but he was enjoying the experience more than he ever thought he would.

They'd been married five years now and he treasured every minute.

As her sobs subsided, she pulled back and he studied her face, eyes red and puffy from crying, face flushed, she still looked beautiful. He brushed a few strands of hair from her face and looked into her eyes, the corners of his mouth still turned up in that same small smile. His eyes asked her if she was alright. A strangled giggle rumbled in answer to his silent question.

"It's over." She murmured laughing softly as he brushed a few tears off her cheeks. He nodded.

"You did it." She shook her head.

"It wasn't just me." His eyes chastised her. She was too humble. "Don't give me that look. It took a lot of work from a lot of people to make the talks go through."

"Relena, _you_ arranged the talks, _you_ interceded on the behalf of both parties, _you_ negotiated and _you_ drafted the final document ensuring the cementing the solid foundation of the trade agreement."

"That's my job as the Minister of foreign affairs." This was only half true. "It is no less my responsibility than protecting me is yours." He shook his head, but said nothing. She buried her face into his chest for a moment as if breathing him in. "Besides," her voice same out almost a whisper, "now you won't have to fight." He paused and pulled back to look at her, realization dawning on him. Why hadn't he guessed it?

"Relena…"

"I promised myself, when I took this office, that I would do everything in my power and all that I am to prevent a war. I would do all that I could to make sure that all of you would never have to fight again." He stared at her for a moment, he eyes downcast to the floor as her words set in. That was why she had worked so hard. That was the reason she had practically killed herself in her efforts to keep the peace. The late nights, early mornings, and all the times in between; she hadn't done it for the colonies or the Earth. She did it for their friends. She did it for her family… she did it for him. He leaned in and captured her lips with his. When they pulled apart, she smiled at him, a pure, loving smile.

"So… _you_ were protecting _me_?" she nodded, stifling a giggle.

"The only way I can." He kissed her again this time stronger, longer and deeper. His hand tangled in her hair as hers grabbed his jacket in her fists. As a soft moan resonated from her throat and he deepened the kiss, crushing her to him as if he would die without her. He felt his need for her building; knew they both could use the release, but he knew something she needed more. He gently pulled away from her and met her eyes, a questioningly look on her face.

"Heero?"

He placed a soft kiss on her nose, making her wrinkle it in an adorable way before picking her up and carrying her to their bed. He laid her down gently and she reached for him. He let her hands cup the sides of his face for a moment before pulling away. He kicked off his shoes, took off his jacket and climbed onto the bed next to her, pulling her against him, and covering them up. She snuggled in, and it never failed to amaze him how perfectly her body fit against his own. He felt her tension began to leave as her breathing slowed into the gentle cadence of slumber.

"Thank you," he cooed softly to her and placed a gentle kiss on her head. In moment like this, when it was just the two of them, no more needed said. No more needed done. They only needed each other. "I'll protect you too; with all that I am."


End file.
